Bloodstained
by Quechy
Summary: Kendall should have questioned every single detail about this "game" before he quickly agreed to fight for freedom. He just signed his own death. This, for sure, was the biggest mistake of his life. [Warning! Gore, violence]
1. Fatal Error

**So most of you might want to strangle me for going MIA for quite a while, now.**

**I know; I would've wanna strangle me, too. But my laptop crashed (literally) months ago and it's dead, now. I've been saving money to go get a tablet with an attached keyboard or another laptop, so yeah. All my fanfiction data is gone . . . with the wind (sorry). But not to worry! I'll re-write every lost chapter, so bear with me (I know I've said this thousands of times, I love you all)!**

**Therefore, I posted a story that had been sitting around in my PC (thank God it's still there) so you guys have a little something from me to read while I re-write all other stories. I think it's somehow inspired by this anime, Togainu no Chi, or something. A little bit like **_**The Hunger Games**_** but no, not quite.**

**Enjoy bloody Big Time Rush.**

**And yeah, another Kendall-centric chapter (I don't even know how my fanfics work, with Kendall always being the main and all, since I really love James and Logan and let's get back to the story).**

**James, Logan and Carlos will appear in the next chapters or two. And oh my gosh, the title sucks. Help?**

* * *

**Bloodstained**

Chapter 1

_"Fatal Error"_

* * *

The night was cold; pitch black.

Under the bloody red moon, the streets of Dystone City were clear; not a single soul spotted. Everything was still; the red blood splattered across the cracked asphalt road earlier today had dried into a dark maroon color.

There was hardly any other color than the dried red of blood, the dull gray of the city and the deep black of the night. The smell of murder lingered heavily in the fog.

Dystone City was dead.

Or so it seemed like, when suddenly, a glint of silver slashed through, shining for a split second in the dark night; a bloodcurdling scream right after. And _splash_, just like that, the now maroon asphalt received a fresh new color. As a body fell and met the ground, blood trickled down in a small stream, the clanking sound of a sword echoed through.

The first kill for the night—the game continued.

* * *

A horrifying scream pulled him away from his sleep, and he wasn't sure if he were relieved or even more restless. He had a nightmare, one where he was running, never-ending. It's been haunting him for a few days, but for now, his bottle green eyes were wide open, wildly searching for light, when he remembered; he wasn't at home.

Reality slapped him across the face—it hurt. But it was his choice; he made the decision to come, no turning back now. He pursed his lips into a thin line before calming himself down with the darkness surrounding him. It wasn't helping. He needed light.

Knowing it was useless, he pulled his knees up to his chest, and leaning his head on it as a small whimper escaped his chapped lips.

Kendall was scared.

No.

He was terrified.

Four days ago, he would be in bed right now, sleeping. Maybe not peacefully, but he was sure he would be comfortable and safe enough to close his eyes and drift into slumber. Yet now, here he was, not daring to let sleep fall upon him.

He worries. It's not like he's afraid of death, no, Kendall was a fighter; he always has been. Four days ago, he had won the street fight tournament. Four days ago, he had beaten up six guys single handedly. Four days ago, he was the number one fighter in District A.

Four days ago, he was home in Minreall Town.

Kendall sighed, remembering that day clearly; the memory, the moment was vivid in his mind. The day he was selected, chosen. It was right after he won 'Blast', the tournament. People were cheering and marveling at his strength, at his skills.

Kendall felt the rush of victory; he felt high, he felt proud.

In all this, a lady in the purple dress with a big purple hat suddenly made her way towards him during his victory cheer, accompanied by two tall men by her side. She looked sophisticated, and Kendall immediately knew she wasn't from around here. Utopian woman, definitely.

Wainwright, was it? Her name? Kendall shook his head, deciding that he didn't care what her name was. It was what she said to him that mattered, _"Kendall. We want you to fight for your freedom."_

A mocking snicker came from the blond as he recalled the memory. Freedom? Freedom of what? It this what she meant by freedom? He was a fool. He was too naive to believe in such a word.

Four days ago, Kendall reacted to said word. He wanted it. He needed it. He dreamed it. He planned it. He _yearned _for freedom.

So when Wainwright came to him, offering him a chance to live his life in a better place, a better way, he took it. He didn't doubt, didn't hesitate. He would do anything to get out of Minreall Town and go live a decent life in a utopian city. He had enough of the dirty dystopian districts he had to call home. It was time to move on to a better place.

All the fighting he had gone through, it was to gather the money, to afford a life and ride away from here. Now, he didn't have to wait; his dreams were coming true. Or so he thought.

_"Freedom? What do you mean by freedom? Who are you?"_

The classy lady only smiled, tipping her broad-brimmed hat, _"Freedom from the low-life in Minreall Town, young fighter. You are a strong one," _her smile widened, showing off her white, pearly teeth, _"I am Kelly Wainwright, here to offer you a bargain, a pact between us two. Should you agree, you are allowed to choose which place to go."_

_"Even to a utopian place? You'll let me go to the city?" _He knew it costs a lot. He'll deal with prices to survive there later. The chance of going was tempting enough.

Wainwright nodded, her curls bounced though most of it were tied in a bun, _"Anywhere you would like to go, Kendall," _she raised her gloved index finger before speaking, _"However, there is a price at stake."_

Kendall's shoulder slumped at the word 'price'. If money was going to be involved, he would cut back and let this chance of freedom slip away. Back to plan A, so it seems. Ah, it burns to be so close to having dreams come true.

_"I don't have much money."_

A hearty laughter came from the tan-skinned lady, _"My dear! Money is not something we shall discuss about," _she stared straight at Kendall's eyes and he shivered, remembering how sharp those brown eyes were. Then, there were the dog tags, _"Do you know what this is?"_

Bottle green eyes rested upon four metal pieces hanging on a small chain, clanking together as they reflect the sun beam, shining, _"No."_

_"It's a soldier identity tag," _Wainwright said, clanking them with a smile, _"Made out of metal. Very strong. You tie them around your neck with this chain," _she explained, handing them to the young man, _"Do you know what they're called?"_

Kendall examined the metal tags before him. They felt cool on his skin, even under the hot sun.

_"No."_

Wainwright kept her smile, her voice flowed, _"Dog tags. Do you know what they are for?"_

Suddenly feeling stupid, Kendall chose not to answer, but look at her straight in the eyes, waiting for the answer.

Wainwright understood, _"They are your keys to survival,"_ she said, _"The keys to your freedom."_

Another scream pierced throughout the night and Kendall snapped out of his flashback, breath quickening. Again, his eyes rolled around in fear, a pink tongue darting out of his lips to moisten it. The hair behind his neck standing, skin crawling.

Kendall was alert once more. He was ready; whatever comes his way.

After all, this is the game he decided to play.

* * *

Igra was the name of this nightmare.

The rules of the game were simple: stay alive, collect the dog tags and kill to survive. Kendall thought he had this in the bag.

Staying alive was what he does best; he's managed to live alone in Minreall Town for seven years since his parents died, didn't he? He fought to keep his place in the world; he fought for money to make a living. He is strong and very skilled in combat. Staying alive wasn't a problem for him.

Collecting the dog tags require plan, strategy and a keen eyesight. Kendall plans a lot. In battle, he had strategy, which is probably why he wins hundreds of battles before—his opponents were just trashing and punching without calculation, wasting their energy. Kendall was different; he is smart. Collecting dog tags wouldn't be that hard, he thought.

Kill to survive—could he? This was the one rule where Kendall's stomach flipped. All that fighting, never a soul taken. Blood was shed, yes, once or twice, but no, not killing. Kendall never killed. Animal, yes, he did kill a black panther lurking around the city for some time two years ago. But murder? No. And he wasn't sure if he could handle taking a person's life.

It was unfair to him, but at the same time, it was his mistake.

Kendall should have questioned every single detail about this game before he quickly agreed to fight for freedom. Idiot. He felt scammed, he was sure of it. He just signed his own death. The thought of it brought chills up his spine.

This, for sure, was the biggest mistake of his life.

* * *

_Do you know what that is?_

It's a soldier identity tag made out of metal, tied around your neck with a chain.

_Do you know what it's called?_

Dog tags.

_Do you know what they're for?_

They are your keys to survival.

_You might think yourself as a soldier._

But you're nothing more than a stray dog.

_This is a game._

Work hard, play hard,

_Kill hard._

Best of luck,

. . . _**dogs**_.

* * *

**Yeah, so.**

**Review, maybe, if you think it's interesting enough. And stuff.**

**Okay, thanks!**

**Lu.**


	2. Initial Encounter

**You get two chapters at once because I love you and I don't want you to hate me.**

**Yay.**

* * *

**Bloodstained**

Chapter 2

_"Initial Encounter"_

* * *

_"Kendall . . .? Kendall, don't go. Please."_

Bottle green eyes snapped open. The fighter hadn't noticed himself falling asleep once more.

When he looked out of the window, Kendall saw dawn—he had survived the night. The abandoned bar he took shelter during the dark proved to be a good choice of protection. Kendall sighed, wiping the beads of sweat on his forehead, under his golden bangs. He readjusted the worn-out grey beanie covering his head and stretched his arms out.

He dreamt of Carlos just then. A friend, a brother; someone who has been there for him all his life. Kendall shook his head at the memory of seeing him for the last time, before he left Minreall for Dystone. For Igra. The expression on Carlos' face was a perfect mixture of shock, fear and anger.

Kendall couldn't complain; Carlos had every right to be angry at him. He was the one who took Kendall under his wing right after his parents died. Carlos had been his best friend, his brother and his father all at the same time. Kendall understood that it wasn't a simple thing to do.

_"Kendall, don't."_

Another sigh came out from Kendall's lips. Why didn't he listen to him? Ah, but regret always comes after the foolish decisions he had made. No turning back, now.

_"Don't."_

The blond chewed on his bottom lip before deciding to get up and get ready for another day in Igra. Dawn was actually the perfect time to scavenge; there would be less people in the streets, less fighting to do, less souls to take.

Kendall stood up and pulled out the other three of the metal tags he had, one being already around his neck as proof of participating in the deadly game, Igra. Also, to show the other contenders which of the four tags he would be collecting. He wore the Ace of Hearts.

Pursing his lips, Kendall scowled upon the deck that was randomly given for the first day. Apparently, each tag had a symbol engraved on it, based on spades, diamonds, hearts and clover. He had thought that he should just randomly collect the dog tags. It turns out that he has to complete his deck of suits.

For instance, in Kendall's case, he has chosen to collect Hearts (seeing that the other three tags are with little nominal) therefore he is to collect the King of Hearts, the Queen and the Jack to be able to win Igra. And again, Kendall realizes that this game is nowhere easy.

However, random tags with small value such as two Spades, four Diamonds, etcetera, could still benefit participants of the game; they may exchange those tags for solids, water and many other beneficial things. It serves as money.

A shiver ran down Kendall's spine when the thought of solids entered his mind. It was an unpleasant meal—somehow a gooey, thick substance to be squirted out of a pillow-like bottle—but with very high carbohydrate and protein. In short, it keeps them fighting. The taste, however, was just disgusting, as Kendall would put it, no matter how many different flavors they provide. Though Kendall finds the meatball flavor to be not as bad as the rest; or at least, decent enough for him to eat.

Glancing down at the three other tags—two Spades, four Diamonds and seven Hearts, Kendall's scowl became deeper. Four days in Igra and he hasn't killed anyone yet; he somehow is proud of himself. But not for long; soon he has to kill a participant to snatch his or her dog tag, not only to win Igra, but to merely survive for food.

He was lucky enough to find a hidden stash of solids that might belong to a participant (and very skilled, seeing how many solids there were) at the first night he got here. Six solids and four bottles of water weren't enough for Kendall to last, though. He needed food if he were to survive, he also needed water. And to get supplies, he needed the tags.

The first fight had to be done.

* * *

The air was crisp and Kendall whispered a silent prayer of gratitude for having a fitting jacket with rabbit's fur sewn on the edge of the hoodie to keep his neck warm.

Swallowing a somewhat frosted gob, Kendall breathed out chill puffs of air as he pulled out the twin daggers settled horizontally behind his waist on his customized belt.

He decided to warm up some of his moves as he practically held the two daggers in each hand, swiveling them with his fingers skillfully as he began to move like the fighter he is.

To be honest, he had never used a weapon before -he should be getting familiar with it for knives, daggers, swords and blades were the only weapons allowed in the game. Weapons such as guns, bombs and any of the sort are confiscated if ever found by the executioners (whom Kendall _thankfully_ haven't came across with).

Kendall moved; carefully, but vigorously, and got lost in his maneuvers when suddenly, scornful laughter snapped him out of focus, making him turn around to where the source of mockery was.

"Well, would you look at that, babe," a sneer from one young man, probably in Kendall's age as well. He had a knife on his right hand; his left hand on his hips and Kendall's green eyes followed as it move up to the dark blond locks on the young man's head, his fingers running through his hair, "What is this little rascal doing in a place like this, practicing his moves with his invisible partner?"

There was a girly, yet annoying high-pitched giggle filling the frigid air of dawn right after, and Kendall shifted his glare to the young woman beside the sneering fighter. She swished her sandy brown hair that was tied into a ponytail before pulling out three little razor blades in between her fingers, "How dumb; let's just kill him, Tad."

The young man, Tad, sniggered arrogantly, looking at Kendall from head to toe before pulling the giggling girl by the waist, "Two tags for me and two for you, Sandy," he said, drawing her in for a kiss that made Kendall glower at the couple suspiciously.

His first battle and it was going to be against two people—unjust already. Shrugging off the doubt and nerves Kendall had against murdering, he sighed. He didn't have the heart to take away their lives, but it was them or himself. And honestly, Kendall could tell this Tad was a jerk.

So, okay, he was going to have to deal with guilt later; now it's about surviving. Hopefully killing these two doesn't haunt him after.

"Are you two done?" Kendall called out, clearly annoyed at how the two strangers have belittled him, "Cause I'm about to get started," he said in a low voice, a voice he had no idea he could make and went into battle stance. He pulled his daggers in front of his chest, right below his gleaming green eyes.

And there was something about those eyes, those strong, intense eyes with that glint of just enough light of daybreak to make Kendall appear powerful that made something inside Tad flinch. Right there and then, Tad knew he had miscalculated, "Babe," he called out for his lover and pushed her back gently forward to face Kendall, "Go."

Sandy had a shocked look in her face when she looked back at Tad, "But why me? He looks like an easy kill, baby, you can totally end him in one blow."

Tad only gave a smirk, "Sandy, baby, I know that," he lied; he could see—_feel _Kendall was stronger than he was, and, "That's why I think you should do the honors this time. Besides," Tad shrugged before winking at the girl, "It's such a turn on when you get all badass."

Feeling her heart swell, Sandy puckered her lips and blew Tad a kiss before facing her opponent. She, too, was ready as she went into battle stance, complete with her six razor blades, three on each hand, "Ready, little pussy-cat?"

Kendall scowled, "Ladies first."

* * *

Scurrying off like a frightened little animal, Tad had to clamp his mouth to stop the bile rising in his throat; the smell of Sandy's blood in the air made him sick.

Sandy lay on her back, so close to being a lifeless body as she was bleeding from her stomach, choking on her own plasma. She wanted to scream for Tad, to beg for him not to leave, but as soon as the footsteps were unheard anymore, she swallowed.

Her half-lidded eyes gazed up at Kendall who was unharmed. "D-Do it . . ." she breathed out, pleading for the blond to end her life.

Kendall raised his dagger before letting it fall to his side, shaking his head. A long, deep sigh was emitted before he made his decision, "You'll be alright. The cuts won't kill you," he said, staring her limp body down.

"So _kill_ me!" Regretting a second after she had screamed; blurry vision and headache as the consequence, Sandy began to sob despairingly, "T-Tad left me, anyway . . . there's n-no other reason for me to—"

"This is _your _fight," Kendall cut off, hovering above the girl with her between his legs and leaning down to stare at Sandy's weakening eyes, "Not his. He was a coward for running away," he spat disgustingly before shaking his head, "I don't plan to kill you. You're strong; you'll survive."

Sandy blinked back her tears, her voice shaking as she asked the question, "Then what do you plan?"

Without another word, Kendall leaned down, dug his hand into the pocket of Sandy's vest and pulled out a handful of tags, the metal clinking together without a chain to unify them.

"Those include Tad's . . ." Sandy whispered. She sniffed as her crying ceased, "If . . . if you're not going to take my life, take them," she mumbled, looking away from Kendall's intense orbs, "Take them all—it's your victory."

Kendall stood up straight and saw Sandy reach down her pocket with shaking hands to retrieve more of the tags. He turned and walked away; shoving the handful of tags in his small bag, "Keep the rest. You need those for solids. I'll be fine with just these," Kendall said clearly and zipped the rucksack that was attached to his belt.

Suddenly Sandy found the strength to prop herself up with her elbows, "But . . ." she silenced when Kendall began to walk further away from her, "Th-Thank you!" Sandy called out, her voice dying out in the end into a whisper, "Thank you. . ."

But the victor had already left.

* * *

**Aww, Kindle yu so nice.**

**I guess. But you guys are nicer if you leave a review :3**

**Lu.**


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